


Rob Your Boss, Fall in Love, Walk Home, Fall in (more) Love

by Control_Room



Series: The W-lly Franks Twins [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Brothers, Crushes, Depression, Falling In Love, Family, Gay, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sadish, Twins, chilling, i’m outta here, secret room, susie campbell mentioned, what? are feelings?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Willy has had a busy day. In the end of it, he can look back fondly at the moment he met Shawn Flynn. (some art for this is on my deviantart, Control-Room)





	Rob Your Boss, Fall in Love, Walk Home, Fall in (more) Love

“It’ll be easy as pie,” Wally assured him, playfully plucking at Willy’s suspender strap. Willy swatted him away with a glare. They were in their little hideaway that they had built into the janitor’s closet, hidden next to the shelves, behind the door when it would be open. It wasn’t very large, but not quite falling into the definition of small, either. It was a twelve by twelve space, with two murphy beds on the right wall, a small table with two chairs, a simple light fixture, a stash of books lining every surface, and a radio for Willy. Willy did not look convinced, folding his arms. Wally sighed. “Look, if it makes it any easier. you can go to Grant an’ I’ll go ta Mist’r Drew. We both ask for our cheques and overtime pay. Just like every week, just now we’re gettin’ a little bit extra. Got it, Wills?”

“Fine,” he begrudgingly conceded, lowering his crossed arms. Wally smiled with relief, and they together made their way to the secret door. Willy pulled on a bit of wood sticking out, and the wall swung inward. The outside of the false wall seemed to just be the regular planks that made up the whole flimsy studio. Willy stepped out of the real part of the janitors closet and quickly made his way down the hall to the stairs to Grant’s office, leaving Wally behind until he could signal him with his walkie talkie. Halfway down, Willy passed the elevators, and sent Wally a quick beep. Three were sent back, on his way. Willy contemplated the elevator system as he hopped down the steps, and concluded that he would never trust those elevators with Mr. Drew himself. Wally didn’t seem to have any real problems with them, but agreed on their poor construction and danger. He had somehow made it to Grant’s office without incident, and he timidly knocked. “Uh, Mist’r Cohen? It’s payday.”

“Huh, so it is, Wally,” he gruffly replied after glancing at his calendar. He beckoned Willy into his office, not knowing his true identity. He scribbled his signature onto a check, then paused, clamping a bite down on his pencil (he was trying to quit smoking), he glanced up at the man by his desk. “You’re also getting overtime, right?”

“Yessir,” he respectfully answered. “This studio can be a mighty fine disaster site after an animation is complete.”

“Ha! Wouldn’t you know it,” Grant chuckled, handing over the slip of paper. Willy thanked him. He was on his way out when- “Speaking of disaster zones, Wally, could you do me a favor and check up on Mr. Shawn Flynn? He’s… well, he’s been having quite a bit of trouble in the Heavenly Toys workshop.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Cohen,” Willy smiled with an inward sigh of immense relief, “It would be my pleasure. I’ve always loved those lil’ plushies.”

————————

“Hello, Mr. Joey Drew,” Wally addressed his boss with a lazy smile. He outstretched his arms when he was admitted into the older man’s office. “Guess what day it is, Boss?”

“Pay day, of course,” Joey smoothly responded with that smile that could charm thousands. He pulled a pre written check from his desk, tearing out another paper to add the overtime payment. “Here you go. I must admit, I never knew that you were such an extraordinary voice actor. I look fondly towards the day Tom the Wolf will air. And you, Mr. Franks - how do you feel?”

“It will be one of the greatest days of my life, sir,” Wally truthfully replied, putting both cheques into a buttoned pocket. “I can feel him as a part of me. I’ve been pouring over my lines since I got them.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Drew slowly stated with an even slower nod. “I’ll expect you’ll be ready when the time comes to record, Wally.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wally assured him, “They’ll be as memorized as a bee’s favorite route to a flower garden.”

“Excellent,” Joey happily said, leaning back in his chair. “In another development, Mr. Connor has asked my to send you to him. Something about needing technical assistance with the gauge or what not.”

“Is it urgent?” Wally wondered aloud, hoping it was not. He wanted to go home, as Willy promised him that all the work would be done. “Because, you see Mr. Drew, I was going to go out for lunch, and clean up the music department again. Sammy and Norman said it was a mess.”

“I’ll let him know you’re busy for the day,” he assured him, scrawling it onto a notecard. “Now, be off.”

“No problem,” he muttered to himself as soon as Joey was out of earshot. A broad grin crept across his face. “I’ll be off, no problem whatsoever. I’m outta here.”

And with that, he left for the day, cashing in his cheque, and spending the rest of the day reading leisurely at home, knowing Willy had the job covered.

————————

Loud yelling and swears in another language (Irish, most likely, after all, Shawn was Irish in the first place) resonated from the Heavenly Toys department, jolting Willy in surprise from the stairs nearly fifty feet away. He had half a mind to turn around and leave, but that seemed heartless. So he resolved to go on, reminding himself to clean the music department later, as he promised Wally. He continued on, jumping slightly when another cuss and exclamation reached his ears.

“Fookin’ ifreann! Anothe’ spilled ink bucket!?” Shawn’s accented voice carried itself through the halls, and a smile cracked free on Willy’s face. He fell in love with that accent instantaneously. He made his way around boxes of Alice Angel scraps, and made it just in time to see one of the pipes from the rather terrifying well squirt ink everywhere. “I dtigh diabhail!”

Willy blinked. He had never heard Shawn from up close. His voice was loud, yes, but much more… human in person. No, not more human… more understandable. He stepped out from the boxes. Shawn looked over him suspiciously, then seemed to recognize him.

“Wally Franks, is it?” he asked, then laughed. Willy knew that that laugh was the best thing he’d ever heard, and he never wanted it to end. He extended a hand. “‘m Shawn, Shawn Flynn. Not to be confused with Seàn McLoughlin, who eerily resembles me and sounds like me.”

“I’m Wa… ya know what,” Willy stopped himself from introducing himself as his brother. He really liked Shawn already, and he wanted to be honest with him if he could trust him. “Mr. Shawn Flynn, can you keep a secret?”

“Just Shawn is okay,” he smiled, and G-d, that smile was dazzling. Willy managed a weak one in response, and mumbled an ‘okay’. “And of course I can keep a bloody secret! I might be loud, but I only complain about what happens to me in this blasted room as it happens. And, being honest, shit happens, and not the good kind. The very annoying kind.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” Willy questioned. Shawn made a motion of zipping his mouth, then locked it, throwing the key away. ‘If that were a real key, he’d never be able to find it in this mess,’ Willy wryly thought, then steeled himself. “I’m not Wally Franks. That’s my twin brother. I’m… I’m Willy Franks.”

“Gan cac!” Shawn exclaimed, then laughed. Willy blinked, and a smile tugged at his lips. His resolve won out in the end. “I should’ve guessed! You’re shorter than your brother, just by a little bit. Yer eyes are also slightly different to the trained searcher, more deep and wise than smart and quirky, so that was a major tip off. Also,” he grinned, bright cornflower blue eyes glinting mischievously, “I had already become acquainted with Wally. So if ya were introducing yerself, yer either a crazy amnesiac or a whole different person. Guess which one was right?”

“A whole ‘nother person,” Willy muttered, tugging at the suspender strap under the name tag pin. He tapped it. “So this old thing can’t fool you?”

“Nope,” Shawn shook his head. “Also, your suspenders have two straps in the back. Wally’s only got one.”

“Well, whaddya know,” Willy said after a few moments. Then he smiled. “Well, apparently you know a lot.”

“I pay a ton of attention to detail, is all,” Shawn admitted and shrugged. “Why do ya think I got this job?”

“Cause Mist’r Drew couldn’t find anyone better?” Willy jokingly suggested. “After all, you’re always ranting about him complainin’ about your infamous ‘crooked smiles’.”

“Yer a smart one, aren't cha?” he mused, looking over the janitor. He darkened slightly and muttered something about Wally being smarter. Shawn waved his hand to cut him off. “I’m not saying Wally ain’t smart. He’s pretty cunning, himself, but he’s not that… intelligent. He has innovative ideas, sure, but you have reasonable ones, from what I’ve heard. Your ideas are closer to Earth than his. You tend to make better things with the tools around you, he tends to use other’s items.”

“Ya… you shameless flatterer,” Willy, now about three shades darker, stammered, covering his face with his cap. “You seem to know exactly how to embarrass someone.”

“Embarrass?” Shawn cachinnated (that laugh… it was like sunshine in summer), “I was going for enlighten.”

He grinned, looking Willy in the eyes, meeting his cornflower blues to the darker man’s Kobicha ones. Willy found himself drowning in those eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes were captivating. His breath hitched, and as Shawn restarted speaking, he found himself yanking his mind out of those flashing orbs full of life. He roughly swallowed words he wanted to say. Not here, not now, not ever. No one could know.

“Anyways,” Shawn progressed, forcing Willy to pay even more attention to him, “I wanted help painting all these dolls. Since April thirtieth, the orders for plushies skyrocketed. I dunno why so many people want ‘em now, but it does make my hand hurt like Hell!”

“Of course I’ll help!” Willy offered, anything to distract himself. Then he remembered he had to clean the music department. ‘It can wait,’ he told himself, walking right behind Shawn to his workstation. It was surprisingly neat, each thing precisely where it belonged on the shelves. Well, everything beside a huge amount of plushies stacked by one of the levers. “It’s… I think that this place is pretty neat. N-not the clean neat, which it is, I meant neat like… cool.”

“Hah! Yeah, I like to keep it tidy,” he chuckled, glancing about, heading to the main desk in the center of the room. He pulled out a box from one of the shelves, opening it to reveal paint brushes and ink bottles. He passed one of each to Willy. Then he plunked a pile of Boris and Bendy plushies onto the counter, tossing yet another one of each to Willy. He crash coached him in painting both of the faces. It took a few tries, but Willy quickly managed to get the hang of Boris. The two of them plowed through the stash extremely quickly, the box of finished Borises filled very rapidly. “Nice! Now, let’s do these Bendys!”

As he was showing him, Willy went ahead in finishing the face before Shawn completed telling him how to.

“That’s,” he said with a soft smile, carefully setting down the Bendy he had been working on, taking up Willy’s. “A very nice smile, Willy!”

“Thank ya, Shawn,” he replied, feeling weightless and glowey inside. He picked up another doll. Shawn put the duo of completed ones into a new box. “You know, this is very therapeutic.”

“Yer tellin’ me,” Shawn muttered, finishing off another Bendy. He glanced up, noticing that Willy was about to tip the ink container. “Watch yer hand!”

“Oh!” Willy smiled, glad Shawn caught him. He moved his hand away from the jug. “Got it!”

“Hold up a moment,” Shawn stopped him from getting another plushie from the pile. He handed one to him, standing up to go behind Willy. He put his hand over Willy’s, guiding him on how to properly hold the brush to avoid cramping when drawing Bendy’s face. Due to the fact he was standing behind Willy, he didn’t see the maroon tinge flick onto his face. “See? Much better, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Willy admitted with admiration for the man beside him. “It does feel better, thank you.”

“Yer very welcome,” Shawn responded in kind. He glanced at his wrist watch, and his eyes widened. “Holy cac! It’s eight o’clock already!”

“Oh no!” Willy yelped, leaping up from his chair and running towards the exit. “I promised to clean the Music department!”

“Wait!” Shawn called urgently, stopping him in his tracks. He threw the plushie he held in his hand at Willy. “Take it! You helped me so much today, and it’s the least I could give you in return for your assistance.”

“Thank you,” Willy gratefully thanked him, tucking the little demon into his back pocket. Then he ran up all the steps to the music department, all eighty eight of them. By the time he made it there, he was flushed and panting as he burst through the door, nearly crashing into Jack Fain and Sammy Lawrence. “Mr. Lawrence! Mr. Fain! I’m so sorry I’m so late, what’s needed to be done tonight? It’ll all be done by the morning, I promise!”

“Oh, just the band room,” Jack informed him kindly. Sammy glanced at him. “And my writer’s desk needs a bit of tidying, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Mr. Fain,” Willy agreed with a nod. He turned to Sammy. “Is there anything you need Mr. Lawrence?”

“Norman’s been leaving scrap copies of the films in his loft area, get rid of them. They’re piling up, and we can see it from the recording studio!” Sammy complained. He cast another quick glance at Jack, then muttered to Willy, “And Wally, if you’ve got the time, I have quite a few unnecessary sheets of music you know where. They’re all piled up already.”

“Anything to try to woo the beautiful Ms. Susie Campbell?” Willy teased. Sammy turned red and Jack giggled. Sammy gave him a glare before calling the elevator. He and Jack entered it, and Willy decided to poke one more it of fun at him as the doors closed. “Alright sir! I’ll be sure to leave it in her recording booth, Mr. Lawrence!”

“Don’t you dare!” Sammy yelped, eyes wide. Jack burst out laughing. “Do you hear me, Franks!?”

“Yessir, don’t worry,” Willy calmly said with a lazy smile as the elevator rose. “I was only joking with ya.”

“You better have been,” Sammy threateningly called down, “or I’ll be sure to have a pipe burst to flood this whole damned music department for you to clean!”

Willy watched with Wally’s usual lazy grin as the elevator vanished upwards, and the farther up it went, the more the false smile fell. Soon, it vanished completely, and with a sigh, he hopped to it.

He switched on the speakers, and some of music department’s latest work filled the floor as Willy began to work. He started with the director’s office, and it soon sparkled. He mopped the floor til the writer’s booth, and cleaned Jack’s area like he had asked. Then he made his way around the rest of the department, pausing by the entrance to the recording studio. He took a deep breath before swinging open the door. His heart dropped. No doubt the band just completed a song perfectly, as the sheet notes were everywhere, probably thrown into the air out of joy. Willy set himself to removing the wreak. Around a half hour later, the room was finally clean. He spun on his heel and went up to Norman’s projection room, and sure enough, there were about a hundred old film reels. Willy gathered them into a bag, dropping them into the reel recycling drop behind the door. Why Norman couldn’t do that, Willy’s never understand. He flicked on the projector, jumping out of the room, skidding down the wall and landing onto the piano, he played the instruments that would open Sammy’s hidden room. It creaked open, and Willy slipped in. He saw the stacks of papers, one labeled ‘trash’ and a much smaller one titled ‘good, edit maybe?’. Willy looked over some of the “trash” work and shook his head. Sammy was so talented, even what he considered bad was excellent. He smiled at the Bendy plushie on the work desk, finished cleaning, and left after closing the secret room. He looked at the clock by the punch in, and he was dismayed to see it was already nine thirty seven. He was so late to get home.

The cold air nipped at his face and arms. He shivered, unrolling his sleeves, and with disappointment, realized Wally took the car again.

‘You can walk, you worthless piece of garbage,’ his mind hissed. He nodded, and began the forty minute walk home. A shiver ran through him again. His mind began to berate him mercilessly. ‘Why were you looking at Sha- Mr. Flynn like that, you disgusting freak? You, number one, are screwed up sexually. Number two, you are not even close to his level. He’s an artist, you’re a janitor. He’s white, you’re black. He’s (probably) straight, and, beep beep b*tch, you’re gay.’

Willy forced his mind to shut up, and he pulled the plushie out from his pocket, and he held it close. A long while later, he was home.

“Hey, Wills!” Wally greeted him as he hung his cap. He smiled when he saw the plushie. “Did Shawn give that to you?”

“Yeah,” Willy admitted, then confronted his brother, “he knew there are two of us.”

“Eh, he won’t tell anyone,” Wally shrugged. He noticed something on the plushie. “Hey, brother, what’s that?”

“Huh?” Willy intelligently answered, before looking to see what Wally noticed. A small, handwritten note slipped onto Bendy’s arm. He read it to himself. ‘come help tomorrow, if ya can. I enjoy yer company.’ Willy smiled at how Shawn managed to sneak his accent even in writing. He looked up a Wally, tired but more happy than he had been in a while. “Yeah. It’s a note.”


End file.
